


Fighting the Chill

by Leiddely



Category: Ratched (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Mildred is a bottom but so is Gwen i said it, its gay, lesbians alright
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:06:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26767735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leiddely/pseuds/Leiddely
Summary: Bro the way I need closure stillDrabbly i guess, who knows
Relationships: Gwendolyn Briggs/Mildred Ratched
Comments: 61
Kudos: 252





	1. damn chpt one i guess

Mildred Ratched sat in front of the white vanity in Gwendolyn Briggs' bedroom with a semblance of poise through her fatigue. Working diligently to thread her locks into their intricate nightly pattern provided less of a distraction then she had hoped. While the familiar motions brought about some comfort, the foreign setting, both the home and the company, had awakened her nerves in a not entirely unpleasant way. She felt the eyes mapping her back that threatened to bow in boneless exhaustion. She could sense the kind and mischievous smile drawn to her shaky legs.

"Cold, Mildred ?"

Looking beyond her reflection, she saw Gwen's gentle, smiling eyes and she felt like scoffing through her blush. "No. That said, an Arctic Tundra could provide greater warmth than that blasted seaside dive." Mildred's laugh was a little too bitter and she flinched at her own dismissiveness.

Unexpected relief flooded her at the warm laughter that returned from the bed. "Quite fair. However, this house is large and can feel rather drafty in the Fall."

"Nonsense," Mildred released a breath in an attempt to relax her tone. "You have a beautiful home."

The bed behind her creaked. Her fingers stuttered in their work.

Each step sounded closer than the last, amplified and echoed by expensive hardwood. Very different from the scratchy carpets of their former rooms. Mildred could almost feel her heart in her throat as if it leaped from her chest in fear and anticipation. A rough weight was placed on her shoulders. The heavy cotton blanket forced her hands away from the task and Mildred allowed the embrace to wrap around her.

"You looked cold." The explanation was whispered into her ear and Mildred shuddered.

They had shared a meal and drink together in the dining room in the early evening. However, instead of returning to her lodgings while it was still light out, Gwendolyn lead them both to the parlor where music made way to dancing and swaying gave to softly heated looks. Mildred had lost track of time in Gwendolyn's arm, a mighty feat in the very stressful and deeply purposeful last few months. It was nice to be held, as Mildred was surprised to find, by another woman. To feel long, graceful arms. The soft almost plush curves of her body. The distinctly feminine perfume that Gwendolyn wore like a protective aura. She found herself drunk on this new feeling and the person who embodied the collection of these sensations. It was all wild and unfamiliar and dazzling.

By the time Gwendolyn suggested they migrated upwards and away from potentially prying eyes, Mildred was shocked to find it was dark out.

"You look good in my blouse."

From this, Mildred did blush hard. Gwen must've felt her tense because she laughed again.

"I like your laugh.." It was a quiet admission. She didn't know why she volunteered the thought so freely but cursed herself for it.

"Oh ?" Gwen squeezed her from behind before she straightened up, her hands trailed up her arms and rested on her shoulders comfortingly. "What do you like about it ?"

Mildred was thankful she couldn't see Gwen's face in the mirror. She couldn't imagine answering her and not breaking eye contact repeatedly.

"Well, it's charming.." She cleared her throat and knew Gwendolyn held an amused look above her. "It isn't cruel."

Those hands that had begun to rub circles into the fabric surrounding her shoulders paused. It was all so painful to her.

A short step and Gwendolyn had placed herself next to the vanity and crouched before Mildred. Her light brows were furrowed and her eyes bore steadily into hers. Mildred felt the inexplicable urge to push her away and run or to gather into herself and cry. Choosing neither, she held a shallow breath.

"I will never be cruel to you, Mildred." Each word was defined and Mildred was horrified to think she actually might cry.

They did not have sex. No, but she had followed her upstairs as if no other option had crossed her mind. They continued to sway and smile to each other as though they held a wonderful secret from the world. Perhaps they did. Neither were drunk either, not on alcohol at least. Mildred's head spun pleasantly and she admired the way Gwen's eyes traced her face like strokes from a paint brush. She felt such loss when Gwen disengaged from their embrace to collect the bottle of white wine they have left on the dinner table below. And there, without any further examination of her emotions, she lunged. Mildred caught her surprised lover in an intense kiss. To her credit, Gwen immediately relaxed into it, slowing Mildred's desperate tugs at her collar and frantic pressing of her mouth.

Gwendolyn drew them together closer and led the kiss away from urgent to steady and passionate. Her calming inhales and exhales brought Mildred to weaken her hold on her shoulders and neck. Soon, they were breathing together as Mildred asserted her exploration of Gwen's mouth. The unbelievable softness of her mouth. The gentle direction guided from her chin. Her supple, smooth skin. She could've whined it was all so glorious. At times, she actually did and Gwen only responded with her sweet, throaty chuckle.

It was like being shrouded in safety and yet being on fire all the same. It was alarming and confusing and delicious. Heightened again, Mildred backed them both to the bed but somewhat stumbled onto it in her haste. She envied Gwen's pantaloons then as she struggled in vain with the inaccessibility of her skirt. Though those vindictive thoughts were thrown away when Gwen reached beneath Mildred's thighs to place her higher on the bed. Mildred drew to the cusp of insanity from that. She connected back into the kiss in a rush and pulled Gwen in deeper from her neck to which the redhead moaned. The sound turned to a sharp seethe and Gwen's hand snapped to her ribs.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry, Gwen-" Mildred removed her hands as if burned, but Gwen caught one in her own.

"It's fine, my dear. Just.. Slow, yes ?"

Her watery blue eyes were imploring and Mildred fought through the shame and guilt brought on by the pain she caused. Her hand flexed and wrung in Gwen's affirming grip but Gwen's forgiving gaze was unyielding and she found herself nodding in agreement before she replied. ".. Alright."

The home echoed with the jazz music dutifully playing on the floor below. Mildred had let out a sigh, "Let me check your bandages.."

The throaty chuckle came again. "Still trying to undress me, then ?"

Heat ran hot through her chest to her cheeks and Mildred shook her head in disapproval. "I want to see if your wound has reopened-"

"I'm just teasing, Mildred." She met her eyes and found them to be genuine. Swallowing, she tutted more as a reflex than conscious thought, "Let's see the harm.."

Unbuttoning Gwendolyn's blouse was both an effort and a prize. She managed it in a clinical fashion yet her pulse throbbed in her wrists and neck. Averting her eyes from the woman's royal purple brasserie, Mildred focused instead on the stitching visible on the still healing and reddened skin. Her hand dipped in to swipe the flesh, checking for any leaks or discharge, and found nothing but warm, soft skin. The breath coiled in her chest released along with some of the tension it held. "Well ?" She watched, transfixed by the expansion of Gwendolyn's chest as she spoke. "Am I going to make it ?"

This time, Mildred had heard the ring of playful sarcasm and only broke into a great smile that was barely chastising at all. She crawled up her body to meet Gwen's head upon her pillow and kissed her there. It was mostly kissing from then on. Wandering hands beneath Gwen's blouse and giggling and wrapping themselves deeper into each other. There was a period of awkwardness when Gwen finally noticed Mildred's growing frustration with her attire and suggested she just remove it. Red faced, they compromised with Gwen shedding her blouse and Mildred her skirt if they both got under the covers for the sake of decency.

She suspected Gwen was only indulging her sudden plummet in confidence, seeing as Mildred had attempted to bed her in a much more salacious manner not too long ago. She was deeply relieved that Gwen did so without mentioning such and very much enjoyed the intimate cuddling that followed.

When she woke, it was still dark. A clock ticked in the silence of the home and she was pleasantly surprised by the warmth and the gentle breathing from the chest she fell asleep on. In consciousness, she became at first slowly then rapidly aware of her surroundings. This shook Mildred and she immediately slipped out from the cozy sheets and hands placed comfortingly on her body. Turning on the nearest light alerted her to a clock that read 12:37am and she quickly stalked to the vanity to assess the disarray of her makeup. She'd seen worse but definitely no where near presentable if seen exiting another woman's home at this hour. God forbid if that Motel clerk was still at her post when she returned.

"Mildred."

The voice brought her out of her racing mind and back into the cold reality. Hands were touching her face and Gwendolyn's eyes were studying it. Unable to escape, Mildred turned her face away and closed her eyes. The touch was so nice and gentle but the declaration was so massive. The words only reminded her of the many others who were cruel to her, those who said otherwise and lied.

"Oh, dear.." She felt Gwen's chin on her stocking clad knee and burned with the sudden hopes that Gwen's borrowed top successfully covered her more than her own disheveled blouse underneath. "It's alright... Let's go to bed and we don't have to do anything more or speak on this further.."

"No," It was nearly a croak but Mildred continued. "I need to set my curls and prepare- I need- I should leave. It would not be right if I-"

"Mildred." Her voice was soft as warm butter and Mildred was ashamed that she couldn't even look this beautiful, understanding woman in the eye. "It is alright if you stay."

"Your neighbours might-"

"I don't care for the neighbours, dear." Mildred sniffled in a strengthening breath. "I care about you."

She hung her head then, the fight leaving her body faster than her spirit. "My.. my hair.. I need to..."

The floor creaked with Gwendolyn's movement as she resumed her position back behind Mildred and Mildred shook her head and felt small. Hands that weren't her own then took over the patient practice of setting her hair. She could only resolve to not folding over in the shame. But as the minutes passed along, Mildred little by little began to accept the comfort of someone else touching and working with her hair. Not even her mother had done such a thing.

From the grace of their positions, Mildred allowed then for the tears to flow, unseen but undoubtedly known. Mildred wept silently, cursing and praying and wishing she was different and better. And yet still, this wonderful woman behind her had offered her so much kindness, kindness that Mildred knew in her heart that she did not deserve. Time passed again without Mildred's consent and she held just enough energy to allow for Gwen to take her hand and lead them both back to bed. The sheets had grown cold by then but it offered ample excuse to curl up close to each other, more decidedly than before.

They faced each other under the layers of blankets that Gwendolyn pulled over them. A simple tug coaxed Mildred to huddle beneath Gwen's chin and ironically warm the other woman up from her time exposed to the open air. The long, graceful arms she acquainted herself with hours before wrapped around her shoulders and back and rubbed those never ending, loving circles. Mildred sniffed in and breathed the perfume off of Gwen's neck and felt the impact of it's comforting scent all the way to the pads of her feet. She held no regrets in the way she could now entwine her legs with Gwen's, the neatness of where their thighs overlapped and nestled. When Gwen released a great, weary breath she sighed without blame and Mildred smiled softly into her lover's body. "Let's both get some rest tonight.." Gwen murmured sleepily into the hair she just worked on. Mildred's only response was to kiss the skin in front of her face and follow the other's rhythmic breathing into a gentle slumber once more.


	2. a series of misinterpreted events

The first sense that there was something off that morning came to Mildred by nose. Her eyes shot open at 4:25am as usual, military service will wire you differently after all, but it was the rapid inhalation of suspiciously non salty air that triggered her next episode of panic. This distress only increased tenfold when she found herself unable to move. 

The scream left her throat before she could catch it. 

“Uhha-!” Gwendolyn startled, pulling her arms back from their hold around her. “Wha-- Mildred ? What’s .. ?”

She had curled small on the bed in fear but Mildred heard Gwen’s concern overwhelming the grogginess and confusion in her voice. The world became less scary because of it. And though her heart hammered loudly in her ears, the shadows lost their edge. Old instincts slunk back to their fowl caves carved in the recesses of her adolescence memory where they belonged. In the live dark, Gwen shifted and then the most gentle and inquisitive touch Mildred had ever felt brushed the taunt skin of her shaking hands. “What’s the matter, dear ?”

Her mouth was dry. How could she possibly explain ?

“I..” Mildred swallowed. She forced more words to come. “I couldn’t move.”

“Oh !” It was an embarrassed sound and Mildred furrowed her brows in sympathy. Gwen shuffled back in the bed and Mildred couldn’t help but adore her. “I’m sorry..” 

There was a forgiving smile already on her lips when Mildred extended out to her. The space between them was only a matter of inches but Mildred held so much gratitude for the understanding it belied. “Wait.”

She shimmied over to the other woman, the sheets rumpling beneath her as she moved. Distantly, she was thankfully aware that they seemed to have fallen asleep somewhat in the middle of the mattress if not closer to her side than Gwen’s. When Mildred imagined she was close enough, she kissed her. Whatever her approximation of her lover’s mouth was off by an inch or so leading Mildred to feel the surprised smile sprout on Gwen’s face under her lips. It was such a pleasing feeling that instead of correcting her aim, Mildred decided to pepper her lover’s face in randomly placed kisses eliciting a series of delightfully girlish giggles from Gwen. 

They were sweet and silly together in a way that Mildred had never felt before. Eventually, Mildred slowed her assault to playful nuzzling and Gwen carefully wrapped her arms back around her again. Gwen sighed contentedly, finally relaxing from the tension and surprise and Mildred took the opportunity to entangle her legs between hers like before. Gwen chuckled some more. 

She loved the sound. Last night’s words came to mind and Mildred secretly wondered if one could taste another’s joy like wine. Those faded giggles bright and young. Her chuckle, dry but well meaning. Others she heard were full bodied and heady or comparably sour. She vowed to one day call herself a sommelier in the flavours of Gwen. 

“Is this alright with you ?” The older woman was still and her question was baldly put. In fairness, Gwen always seemed a straight shooter type but Mildred suspected she was simply too tired for tact at this hour. 

“Yes.” She replied evenly and Gwen’s chest sagged in deep, sleepy relief beneath her cheek. 

“Good.” It was a snooty mumble and Mildred bit her lip to contain her massive grin. The terror she felt minutes ago long forgotten. 

“Let’s.. Get.. some…” The words drew out thick as syrup as Gwen meandered through the sentence. After several seconds of silence, Mildred realized she wasn’t even planning to finish it. “You aren’t much of a morning person, are you ?”

Gwen grunted and Mildred shook in silent laughter. This movement must have bothered her too, for she readjusted her hold and squeezed Mildred tight in a slight huff. Mildred, for her part, enjoyed the jostling. The clock ticked. The house was steady in its quiet again. Gwen had slipped back to sleep and Mildred took a calming inventory of her body and the long night. Somewhere in the folds of clean sheets and solid warmth of Gwen’s body did Mildred drift off into a thoughtless rest.

It had been quite some time since Mildred had last woken up to a room filled with firmly established sun. That didn’t bother her as much as she would’ve thought and she stretched across the large bed without rush. Paper crinkled beside her in the empty sheets. It was an odd swirl of relief mixed with something she found rather anti climatic sitting in her chest upon waking alone. On the one hand, she missed Gwen. Her presence and charm and softness. But on the other, she felt almost as if she had yet a chance to breathe or think properly when her attentions were so easily captured by the older woman. 

Taking the note between her fingers, she read the message in Gwendolyn’s uniformed script, **Meet me downstairs when you are ready**.

Warmth blossomed in her chest with some floral hope. 

Mildred took her time before meeting Gwen in the kitchen. She’d slept in her brasserie countless times before, but she knew by now that taking the time to freshen up before facing the day made a world of difference. It was very grounding, she thought. Gripping the cold steel of the facets. Breathing the lavender of the perfumed soaps. Providing herself the most luxurious of sink baths. Even discarding her nylon stockings and donning that traitorous skirt once more. All of it happened peacefully but mechanically, her only hesitation came in deciding whether to borrow the woman’s powders to make her face or to go without. Mildred settled without. 

Descending down the slightly creaky stairway, she heard activity in the kitchen and headed there. She opted to ignore the disarray of the living room, knowing full well that her fragile sense of bravery would stall with one look at the haphazardly arranged furniture where they had cleared their dancefloor. She did think to rescue her shoes from her pile of things in the hallway, however. She’d be back for her hat and gloves later. Gwen was attending to a full set of multisized pots at the stove when she found her, the breeze taking the scent of vinegar out of the room through the open window above the sink. 

“Morning, darling. Did you get enough sleep ?” Her voice was crisp and almost businesslike. Gwen was so occupied by her whisking that didn’t see the blush that pinkened Mildred’s ears. 

“Yes, thank you. I’m sorry for not waking earlier..”

She laughed her great, carefree laugh and shook her head. “Don’t be absurd. In my home, you are welcome to rest as long as you need.” This time, she did cast a glance over her shoulder. Mildred felt her cheeks grow hot and she ducked away from that charming smile. She wiped the moisture from her palms on the front of her two day worn attire and folded her hands neatly before herself before clearing her throat. “How may I help you ?”

“You may eat.” Gwen concluded victoriously and switched off the flames. Mildred’s heels shuffled on the tiles and she twisted her hands in her own. “Oh ! I wish I could’ve helped you with breakfast at least-”

“You can help me finish it.” 

Mildred caught her eyes and paused. The assertive blue to her worried brown, all charisma and reassurance. She swallowed.

Gwen’s eyes held hers captive. “Good ! Now sit.”

Obediently, she did. The Briggs’ kitchen held a spiffy, little nook for casual dining and Mildred fitted herself nicely onto the bench where a plate and silverware awaited her company. Gwen went about serving them as Mildred attempted to collect herself as nonchalantly as she could. Her collar felt strangely hot and she wondered at her complete lack of defiance at the order. It both concerned her and put a flutter in her belly.

Meanwhile, her host filled and decorated their plates with a flourish. Butter toasted English muffin halves, a bed of sautéed spinach and onions, plump poached eggs, and lastly, a generous ladle of hollandaise to blanket the meal. “Viola.” Gwen stated proudly. “Your breakfast, my Lady.”

Mildred’s mouth watered at the sight. A snicker brought her out of her astonishment making her fiddle nervously when placing her napkin in her lap. “Perhaps, you were right.” Mildred recovered sheepishly. “I don’t think I could’ve helped you in making this even if I did come down sooner. This looks fancier than what I made last Christmas.”

For a moment, Mildred feared she’d been too honest. Oh, the lives they lived and how different they were. Gwen was far beyond her bleak schedule of endless early mornings and flavourless porridge breakfasts, of spam and box stuffing holiday meals from one cold, dingy apartment to the next. 

Ever the politician, Gwen only laughed gracefully and arranged the salt and pepper mills between them on the table. “Oh ! I almost forgot !” She rose from her seat and swept over to the counter to collect a small tin. Returning, she dashed a smattering of a pungent red powder on top of both meals and Mildred felt like correcting her statement. She doubted she ever had a fancier meal made for her in her life. Well, aside from.. 

“Try it.” Gwen resumed her seat with her wrists resting on the table's edge, a picture of anticipation.

Mildred picked up her fork and knife and secretly thanked her waitressing experience for informing her of the proper ways to cut into the meal. She loaded her fork with a fair ratio of bread, greens, egg white and sauce. Taking the bite into her mouth introduced her to a buttery exploration of flavour and she closed her eyes to marvel at the symphony. Coming back to her bearings, Mildred fluttered her eyes open only to learn that Gwen had yet to even touch her utensils.

Mildred could’ve swallowed her entire fork.

“Ahem.” She pulled back her shoulders and addressed the watchful women with polite authority. “This is positively delicious and you should really try it.”

Gwen’s eyes sparkled. “If watching you eat paid the bills, I’d make a career of it.”

Her eyes bugged in response. “I beg your pardon ?”

Gwen’s body language immediately folded in response. ”Nevermind.”

Mildred narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to get a rise out of me ?”

“No!” Gwen looked frazzled before biting her cheek and avoiding eye contact. “No, no, just - enjoy, please.”

The woman then snatched up her fork and knife and began to work away at her own meal in a rush. Mildred took her turn watching her now. The anxious way Gwen was packing in her food, strangely refined and ladylike all the same. The whole interaction befuddled Mildred and she suddenly sensed she was back in the position of power again. It was a title she would often work tirelessly and unscrupulously to gain and yet, this time, it felt oppressive and wrong. 

“Gwen..” Mildred started without any idea of how to continue. Gwen’s eyes returned to hers with a terrible weight of flightiness to it. “Thank you for breakfast.”

She gave a non committal response, similar to a bird rustling her feathers, but held her gaze. She slowed her pace a bit eventually and Mildred felt that burst of hope in her chest again. 

Some time passed as they both focused on the sensational meals before them.

“When did you know that..” Mildred asked almost impulsively and trailed off as soon as she realized she had no language to even complete the question. “When did it happen ?” 

She heard Gwen’s utensils clink upon her plate and a subsequent thoughtful sigh. “Hmm.. I’m sure that I’ve been this way forever. I can’t recall a time in which I wasn’t.”

Mildred sagged. She did not wish to think about her times where perhaps she wasn’t. Those times weren’t always her choice after all. “So, how did you know ?”

At this point, Gwen had folded her napkin and placed it onto the table. “Isn’t that the question, hm ? I’m sure if I knew anything else was an option, I would’ve known sooner.” Her words seemed bloated with regret, but she laughed anyway. Mildred felt its sadness keenly. “I suppose the most accurate answer is college. That’s when I discovered that Homosexuality existed in the real world and, more pertinently, in women. Self realization probably dawned on me then or soon after.” 

College.. Mildred clenched her fist under the table and released it. That was yet another conversation to be had. “Oh ? What did it feel like ?”

“It felt like being drunk.” Gwen leaned back in her chair. For the first time that morning, Mildred saw her relaxed. “That and hungover. And sometimes like alcohol poisoning. It was still illegal back in my day.” She winked and Mildred smiled. “Politics was a boys club -still is, clearly- and the only time I could fraternize with their ilk was in the library or at the parties. You can hold a much livelier debate at the latter, so I did what I needed to make my way in.”

“My, my, Ms Briggs..” Mildred's scandalous tone was completely undermined by her grin. “You were a bootlegger ?”

“It wasn’t illegal to drink, you know.”

“Yes, only to manufacture, sell, and transport.” 

“Indeed..” Gwen had looped an arm over the back of her chair as she reminisced sweetly. “And we aren’t even considering all the reefer we smoked…”

Mildred dropped her jaw. “Gwendolyn !”

“Oh, it’s honestly not that bad. It’s criminalization was enforced to disproportionately harass, arrest, and jail Black, Native, and Hispanic people.” Her brows furrowed with agitation before one raised. “You know, everyone who's worth partying with ? Anyhow, all in the name to boost Fiber shares and to create a monopoly on the market instead of hemp. Unjust and absurd.”

Mildred shook her head briefly, an endearing look coloured her features. “You are truly underappreciated as a Secretary.”

“Campaign Manager. Former Campaign Manager at that !” Gwen corrected, rather flushed before she waved the compliment away. “Oh well.. I have new priorities these days.” 

All of a sudden, Mildred remembered Gwen’s illness. The wonderful illusion of sanctuary and reprieve was shattered and she tried to not be gutted by it’s reminder. She continued to breathe into a deflated chest, ignored the boulder in her stomach. Let the atmosphere swirl hollow in her face. Mildred grimaced with sad eyes. How lousy. They were both clandestinely released from their respective employers only to find they are now bound to a new, more heartless master. Cancer. The word itself seemed so ultimate and doomed.

Mildred closed her eyes and steeled her words. “We will get through this together.”

At first, there was silence.

“As long as it’s together, I’ll be glad.”

  
  
Mildred looked up and saw the confidence she lacked and more. Sleeves rolled and cuffed high just below the bicep. Collar popped with a few buttons left open. Set shoulders and steady eyes that beckoned like shelter in a storm. Fly away curls of strawberry blonde sprang from her bun, likely coaxed free by the steam of cooking. A fixed smirk that finally rendered Mildred breathless.

She didn’t know when she started to smile back in what was an undoubtedly goofy manner, but she tried valiantly to assume a neutral face after realizing her slip. When she finally managed a straight face, if not with a wavering tone, she suddenly announced, “I need a change of clothes.”

Gwen smirked wider still. 

Mildred felt that impending feeling again, but this time it was exciting. She swallowed.


	3. using bad weather in text as literary shorthand that they fighting lol

**Chapter 3**

  
  


The way that Mildred smoked the following days could’ve led both women into needing Chemotherapy that summer. Mildred could have considered the irony of it all but instead bore the brunt of it without humour like a jaded soldier. 

Out of a job and without power, she was still endlessly busy. After returning to the motel, Mildred got straight to work tying up loose ends. There was money to be wired and false identities to forge. She needed to track down old friends to pay back and pose inquiries to distant colleagues in secret. Handling the multitudes of correspondence was complex and time consuming and, although she wouldn’t admit it, a relief. Gwen made her squirm and shudder like no one had made her feel before. It was too intense, she needed to be focused. She needed to survive. 

Mildred had always prided herself for pulling her act together in times of War and it really made all the more sense to pick up smoking again the way she used to. The deep breathing of frigid air cleared her head and gave her both a hollow comfort and an excuse to tune out regularly throughout the day. She’d find her body instinctually balancing the stress of maintaining the variety of characters she’s adopted over the years, all the while struggling to keep her dignity. The days soon blurred together like a streak through a wet, ruined canvas as she begged and scrounged for any answers to her lover’s illness. One moment she’d be penning down a lead from an orderly she once served with years ago and the next, she’d be outside her rooms staring at the torrent ocean, exhaling smoke like a dragon. 

The gravel and dirt shifted below her shoes and it was just her and the sea in these moments. Cycles of bottle green strangled out by gunmetal grey only to be bludgeoned by oxford blue. Mildred watched these ferocious battles unseeingly. The cigarette butt would notch between her lips and she sucked in the heavy smoke like it was her nature to breathe fowl air. Her hands and face had gone numb from the cold and toxins some time ago. Yet Mildred felt powerful. She stood like an ancient god on that cliff, watching the elements tear themselves apart as she supervised their turmoil - unmoved and apathetic. 

Pain prickled life back to her fingers and she’d awake again with purpose. 

Mildred dashed what remained of the cigarette against the railing to her room to spite the owner and promptly slammed the door behind her. Inside, she compiled her most recent notes and divided them up to be hidden. She took renewed precautions in storing her sensitive information these days. The half of it she settled to burning if it could be memorized or just as well discarded. Fury had burned hot and sticky inside her knowing that she was bested by a washed out alcoholic. To think of her belongings being refiled through with glee or read and touched with some fiendish relish fueled an ire in her that she seldom allowed. Mildred decided to avoid the Check in Desk for Louise’s own safety. 

All in all, Mildred considered it best not to think about it.

She was slipping a few new pages between the leather and fabric of her briefcase when there was a knock at the door. Mildred stilled. 

Slowly and silently, she swiped the letter opener from the disaster of stationary and spilt ink on the desk and approached the entrance to the common hall. 

Her breathing transitioned to something shallow and reedy and she noted the shadow of two feet planted on the other side of the door. 

Enemies known and unknown raced through her mind as Mildred tried to pinpoint who might own that wide, steady stance less than a meter away. She cursed herself briefly for staying in the same place even after it proved to be compromised. Her pulse beat in her ears and she grit her teeth. Idiot ! You had no idea who the Hitman associated with ! Perhaps Ms Osgoode has come to collect, claiming some form of extortion.. Or, maybe Charlotte... 

Oh god.

Mildred swallowed and squeezed the metal in her grip. It was no matter, she’d been in slipperier situations than this. She would do what she had to. 

Maneuvering closer to the entrance, she twisted, ready to fling it open and strike when a voice called out. 

“Mildred ?”

Again, she hesitated.

“Mildred ? Are you in there ?”

Her defenses dropped like a rock and Mildred gulped for air in relief. Taking another breath to calm herself just a little more, she pulled the door open, the old thing squealing on it’s hinges. Her eyes darted everywhere at first, keeping a firm grip on the letter opener behind her back, just in case. Down the halls, left and right. Dodging around the concerned profile of Gwendolyn Briggs’ to see if anybody else was in sight. The coast was clear and she loosened the hold of the weapon with a sigh. 

Well, except..

“Mildred ? Is everything alright ?” 

Gwen stood a sizable measure taller than herself yet, in this moment, she looked rather lost and flimsy in Mildred guarded, shifty wake. Mildred swallowed nervously and it scratched down her dry throat. “Yes, yes. Uh, why don’t you come in ?”

Gwen raised an incredulous eyebrow in reply but entered anyway. Mildred’s eyes darted about the hall one last time before she shut the door behind them. She immediately locked it with thick, unfeeling fingers.

“Mildred..” 

“Yes ?” 

Swiveling back around to look at Gwen, she tried to assume a look of innocence. Brown eyes wide, head cocked, and arms hanging neutral at her sides. Mildred was no stranger to this act, she might’ve even said she’d mastered it several lifetimes ago. However this time it came out strained and Gwen was looking at her like she must be joking. And the joke was not funny. 

“Mildred.” Gwen was firm. “Talk to me.”

She twitched her wrists and blinked owlishly. “I am.”

Gwen screwed her eyes shut and let out a beleaguered sigh. Her hands wrung in fists at her sides as she visibly walked down her nerves. Mildred watched feeling unsettled and guilty and gulped down her own shot nerves down a tight throat. When Gwen opened her eyes again they were muted and imploring. “Why have you been ignoring me ?”

“I have not !” She instinctively defended. 

Gwen huffed in disbelief. “Then why haven’t you been responding to any of my calls ?”

“I’ve been busy.” 

“Doing what ?”

“.. Making calls.”

The two women squared off with one another, Gwen staring down Mildred who, for her part, focused her gaze back on the other in the space just above her left ear. The sea could be heard from the room by now and Mildred predicted a storm. She shifted restlessly under her unwavering stare, but she refused to speak. She didn’t know what she would say even if she did.

Gwen sighed and finally looked around the room exasperatedly. Mildred tensed. Her room was a mess. Coffee mugs crowded in herds on the corners of the desk and dresser, unwashed and holding varying levels of dark, stale liquids. Flat surfaces were coupled with both letterheads and sandwich wrappers, all adorned unbiasedly with crumbs. Gravel trailed in from the seaside entrance and ash tracked along the carpet out of the bathroom where the tub squatted black and blotchy with soot from her paranoid antics. Even her belongings lay where they had been tossed by that harpy of an Innkeeper when she had fumbled her way through her things a few weeks or so ago.

Gwen looked around, mouth slightly agape and speechless and Mildred’s face burned.

“Dear, has anythin-?”

“Everything’s fine.” Mildred clipped out before she finished the question. 

Gwen finally looked at her again with something suspecting and sorrowful. Unfortunately, it reminded Mildred of pity. “Mildred, if anyth-”

“I said things are fine, Gwendolyn.” She grounded out her name harshly and they both recoiled. 

Luckily, the older wetted her lips and continued on. “I hear you, but I see otherwise.” Mildred wanted to evaporate or explode or do any other impossible thing to leave this conversation. Gwen’s eyes sought to encourage but her mouth fixed into a tight straight line. “I care about you, but I need you to talk to me if you want me to help-”

“Maybe I don’t need your help.” Mildred hissed, possessed by clawing, smothering, spitting insecurities. The words drew out of her like a hostage to a script, destined to seal her own fate. “I’m not some charity case for you to pick up just so you can feel good about yourself, Ms Briggs.”

“Mildred -” Gwen took a step back from her, her face contorted in confusion. She looked like she’d been struck. Her eyes sparkled with hurt and Mildred could barely stand it. “I would _never_ see you like that..”

Mildred tutted and spun away. “Sure.” Internally, she was horrified by her cold, greasy tones, but it was the only thing that made sense. Why else would this stranger dog her every action like this ? She needed to stomp down on this lapse, she’d rip this bandaid off fast if she had to. She needed to get moving. Sparking to action, she deftly rounded the women and marched over to the largest collection of mugs to scoop them up and dump in the bathroom sink. Surely, this was someone else’s room, a patient, maybe, that she needed to assist with the utmost efficiency and professionalism. The thought gave her comfort.

“I don’t know where this is coming from..” She didn’t have to see Gwen to hear the woe in her expression. She made it a point not to look at her. “We can work through this together...”

“I said,” Mildred snapped. “I’m fine.”

They paused. Mildred caught her breath. Gwen shifted her weight on the thin carpet.

Guilt bubbled up inside her like something toxic and Mildred nearly shook to dispel the thick, acidic burning inside. Instead, she reached to collect the mugs. 

She stopped. 

Mildred disposed of the letter opener on the desk to free her hands. It clanked loudly against the wooden surface. The detail of the piece stamped an impression on her palm from the pressure of her grip. Mildred knew Gwen watched the entire scene from over her shoulder. 

Gwen was silent. Mildred cursed it all.

“Fine. Don’t tell me.” She finally broke the tension tersely and Mildred winced. “Just don’t shut me out, please. Don’t make me feel like a fool. Don’t leave me in the dark.”

Each short plea took Mildred down a peg, lower and lower from that untouchable height. Away from that high, lonely place where Mildred could control things and people and never had to feel this awful, churning feeling. All air vacated her lungs and she sucked in a despairing breath. Her shoulders finally bowed in defeat with her exhale. 

Gwen closed the gap, but didn’t touch her. Their nearness held its own type of gravity that Mildred had to fight to stand defiant against. Soon, she sensed the tickle of clean, floral notes in her nose. Her perfume was like a physical force that caressed her face and filled her every orifice with comfort and warmth. Mildred’s body quaked as her muscle released their cramping tension.

“I’m sorry.”

The sound of her wet lips parting seemed louder than her actual admission. The words barely made it out of Mildred’s mouth, caught in thick saliva. 

Arms circled her and Mildred’s face finally crumpled. 

“There, there.” The coo breezed the side of her neck and Mildred curled into the waiting hug. 

The soft, squishy embrace began to sway back and forth in a lull that lapped like waves against Mildred’s bruised pride. Grander admissions and apologies ricocheted around her mind, deflecting and colliding in a frenzy louder than any traffic jam. They bustled around so noisily with their jumbled interference that Mildred feared Gwen might hear them. She found her tongue swollen with shame, “I’m sorry.” She repeated louder.

Gwen didn’t speak, just continued to rock the two of them in the middle of the room. Mildred gave into the rhythm bonelessly and sighed heavily out of her nose. She wished she was better. “I really am sorry...”

Again, silence. The responding heavy exhale pressed Gwen’s form flush to Mildred’s back where she held her. Mildred felt the unspoken hurt and disappointment curl into the space on the back of her neck. Regret pooled in Mildred. She had given Gwen every reason to be upset. 

“I left messages for you with Louise.” The edge of her voice was metallic and drawn. Mildred’s brows furrowed and her face soured anyway. 

She fidgeted against the pressure wrapping her body with unease. “I’ve been avoiding her, actually.”

“Mmm, the both of us you mean.”

Mildred ducked her head in shame. Gwen rubbed her arms up and down Mildred’s in rough but assuring strokes. “She did say that she hadn’t seen you in a week now. But, the room was paid through so she didn’t bother to look.” Mildred’s body copied Gwen’s shrug as she trailed off in her telling. 

“Yeah,” Huffing out a bitter laugh, Mildred said, “I’m sure she misses me.”

“Yes, she’s no bundle of roses, but neither are you, my dear.”

Despite herself, Mildred’s mouth curled in a smile. “Depends. With or without thorns ?”

“Hmmm..” The older woman rocked them both again and leaned forward with exaggerated contemplation. “Definitely with.” 

Mildred’s smile grew a tiny fraction before stopping. “I shouldn’t have left you hung up to dry like I did, Gwen.” 

“I’m glad you see it that way.” When Mildred cringed, Gwen squeezed her, a sympathetic note in her throat. “Aww, Sweetheart, it’s all jake. Yes, I would appreciate a call or an explanation before you go on one of your erm.. Investigative benders, but now you know.” 

It was astonishing how nice it felt to be hugged. Wind and water cracked at the side of the motel now but it just felt so safe in here and in Gwen’s arms. To feel her steady breath in her hair and wrinkle the fabric of her sleeves in her hands. “I was looking to see who offers the best treatment.” She offered meekly.

The rhythm of their sway changed and Mildred held her breath as Gwen gently guided her around in a circle to face her. Her face remained loose although those cunning, blue eyes pierced into hers like shrapnel. Mildred nibbled her lip nervously. Those eyes followed the anxious movement and her whole face grew tender. Suddenly, Mildred feared her blush would thrum through her several days worn makeup.

“You have a strange way of showing you care, Mildred.” 

Instead of replying, Mildred buried her red face into Gwen’s neck who hummed pleasantly. 

“I thought you were simply going out for a change of clothes and to pack a bag.”

“And I thought you said that some time apart is healthy.” Mildred mumbled back into the soft skin of Gwen’s throat and she felt the vibrations of her chuckle against her cheek. 

“I did, didn’t I ? I wasn’t suggesting that I didn’t want to see you, dear. I needed to contact my Doctor and sort out a few legal things with Trevor anyhow..” She ticked off easily. Gwen hesitated only a moment before continuing. “Are we going to talk about the hurricane that burst through your room ?”

“No.” It was a weak, childish response. Gwen laughed and Mildred sighed. “It’s a long story.. I know I can’t trust that Innkeeper, for sure.”

Gwen merely nodded in agreement despite the implications. She snorted dispassionately and Mildred bristled slightly in the embrace. “It’s not funny, Gwen.”

“Oh, I know, I know. But what can you do ?” She asked rhetorically, full of the good humour that Mildred utterly lacked. Noting the younger’s rigidity she slowed their steady sway together. “Move in with me.”

“What ?” Mildred shuffled back to look at her.

“You’re saying this is serious so I’m taking it seriously. Move in with me. Screw this place and screw Louise.”

“Gwen, I couldn’t.. That's a huge imposition to you..”

“I don’t care about that.” Gwen’s eyes glittered as she shook her head dismissively. Mildred stopped to stare at Gwen in all her easy beauty. The woman smiled brightly. “In fact, I’m basically the perfect roommate, I quite literally have had years of practice.”

The words barely registered to Mildred, she was too caught up in the overwhelming adoration she felt for the woman holding her in that moment. Her natural sincerity and kindness. The closeness of their feet shifting between each others. The combination of the space they took in the room that made them feel like they were one single, buzzing entity. So instead, she leaned up to answer her with a kiss. It felt strange to kiss her here, of all places. Like it was always bound to happen and yet, this place was much like a familiar and treacherous road that only contained near misses for the two of them. They breathed in each other's breath and Mildred pushed as much feeling of thanks into the kiss as she could. Urging for the spontaneity that had only threated them at this seaside strip to at last occur. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god needs a part two this getting 2 long


	4. switch

**Chapter 4**

At first, it was tender and gentle - they were still getting used to the canter of each other's lips. Mildred had only known fast and sloppy and insensitive kisses before. To her, they were all bad until she learned how to kiss in order to assert her presence. To announce herself and her convictions, her desire. From then, she settled with kissing as a tool, important only in accomplishing her goals. Men bowed more quickly then she ever could’ve imagined to the simple act of a dominating kiss. 

Gwendolyn’s kiss was different. Her mouth was always soft. Her lips, even at their most demanding were still delicate like thin petals or the soft plush of first snow. Mildred would kiss her like her lips were to be cherished. She appreciated every chance she got to worship them. On the contrary, it was Gwen’s tongue that made Mildred restless and revealed to her all of her hidden skill. Sneaky and seductive, just coy enough to trace the plump of her bottom lip but roguish enough to plunder her mouth as soon as it had entered. 

It was standing there, in that stale motel room, that Mildred was reintroduced to that dishonourable tongue. It was in that kiss that grew heated and wanton that Mildred released a moan and Gwen held her tight, leaning her weight to bend Mildred slightly backward at the small of her back. Off balanced, Gwen kissed her like she was a dame. Mildred fought against her lightheadedness and rested her weak hands into the collar of the other woman’s blouse. From her superior vantage, Gwen cocked her head to explore a deeper angle. 

A memory flashed, unbidden to the forefront of Mildred’s mind.

Then, unthinkingly, one of those dainty hands of hers snapped up to grip Gwen’s throat.

Surprise loosened Gwen’s hold on Mildred and she dropped only an inch before Gwen caught herself and, quite literally, Mildred as well. The kick of gravity caused Mildred to tighten her squeeze. 

Their eyes met each other in shock. Mildred knew she looked haggard from her self driven stint of isolation and figured she only looked rougher now than she did before she invited Gwen into her room. Gwen herself looked quite the picture of disarray. Her locks of gingery, nearly blonde hair were mused in a way polite society would find unbecoming of a woman. The shimmery gloss on her lips was rubbed and now worn crooked by their recent activity. What was most breathtaking of course were her eyes. Pupils blown wide and dark in desire. A thin rim of azure to separate the white from the endless black. It wasn’t often that Mildred saw this pristine, charming woman appear so disheveled and delectable, especially not in such good lighting. Mildred thought she should fix that.

Beneath her palm she felt Gwen’s throat constrict, the contraction of muscles working in tandem to permit a single, dramatic gulp. 

“Mildred..”

Mildred felt her own gaze darken. She intended to ravish her. 

“Mildred.”

She paid no heed, her back straightening. She forced them both back a step. 

“Mil..” Gwen swiped her tongue along her pink lips and Mildred’s eyes locked onto the tantalizing quirk. 

She advanced again. The bed drew closer. 

“Mildred, wait.” 

Strong lines of tendons flexed like steel chords beneath the pad of her thumb and against the curl of her fingers. When did she begin to grip so tight ?

“I-” She blinked a flurry of dark lashes. Breathing sharply through her nose, she released her grasp of Gwendolyn’s throat. Gwen was undeniably rosy and obviously flustered by then but she managed her features into a face of concern almost immediately. “Are you alright ?”

Her matronly tone sent Mildred on a spiral and she dropped her gaze to the floor as the room suddenly began to spin. Mildred was astonished, for what she had done and for her lover’s first reaction. “Am I alright ?” Her voice sounded detached as she questioned the ugly patterned carpet. Her hysteria grew. “Am _I_ alright? Gwen,” She brought her eyes up once again, despite her reeling guilt making it feel like the floor was being taken out from under her. “Are _you_ alright- I-” 

Mildred staggered backwards, out of reach. Her limbs forked out, straight and tense like she’d been electrocuted. Gwen heaved slightly, once given the space, smoothing down her outfit with quivering hands. Her face held a deep flush that she tried to assuage with large lungfuls of air. 

Rain buffered the building as if to remind them of the exact dimensions of the room they occupied. Where it had them trapped. Mildred could barely connect any one stimulus to another, her instruments gone haywire, cognitive functioning going offline. The world hummed. Gwen was merely a collection of abstract shapes and colours that held no meaning. The expanse of Mildred’s universe shrunk by the second. 

* * *

  
  


Gwen was the first to recover, pressing her own palm to her warm face. “Oh, um.. Oh, my..” The feeble sounds spoke to her recovering arousal but fell only on ignorant ears. 

Lost in consideration, Gwen’s blush grew once again alongside her demure, curling smile. She couldn’t help her surprise. To her, Mildred was raw energy. She had felt it the moment they met. It radiated and crackled off of her like live electricity, jumping focus from one objective to another. Gwen spent her life and her career looking for people with that kind of drive. She had found it charming in men, but irresistible in women. It was because of this that Mildred appeared like a beacon to her. From her insatiable and studious nature in the operating theater to her no nonsense insistence on the wonders of baloney, Gwen was utterly captivated. 

And Mildred continued to inspire. 

In her peripheral, the sudden vague flailing of wayward limbs alerted her to Mildred’s obvious distress and Gwen was reminded that time did not, in fact, stop as she believed it did after that powerful kiss. Rather, these last few seconds stretched an endless eternity of suffering for Mildred as she shut down in the wake of her own coercive actions. 

“Mildred ?” Brown eyes stared hollow and unseeingly at a distance further than the floor could account. “Mildred ?” She repeated louder and more uncertainly. In the short time that they had gotten to know one another, Gwen didn’t dare think to approach her while she stood suspended in such a state. 

Taking a fortifying breath, Gwen ventured on gently. “Mildred ?” She stepped not so much closer to the younger woman, but rather into her relative line of view. “Mildred, before we continue.. I have a confession to make.”

Whatever she did seemed to have worked. Mildred jolted to attention as though woken from a particularly immersive daydream. “Gwen, I was unforgivable, I- I don’t know what to say.” The words exited her mouth in a rush, sputtering as they went. Gwen brought up her hands in a forfeiting gesture as though she was communicating with a spooked horse and not a shame faced young woman. “Then say nothing, Mildred. You weren’t here, you were a million miles away.”

“Please,” The sound ripped painfully out of her throat and Gwen flinched at the sound. Mildred’s eyes pleaded, glimmering with tears. “I was unforgivable, I’m so sorry Gwen, I don’t know..” Her voice caught in her throat, strangling out any more sound from escaping. 

Gwen’s entire body twitched. She wanted to hold her. “Oh dear, come. Let’s calm down..”

In great, patience graces of her arms, she coaxed Mildred closer, inch by inch. Her stocking clad feet caught on the rough bristles of the carpet as they barely lifted high enough to glide over the course surface. Gwen kept a wide berth, mindful of how despite the younger’s silence, her rigid posture and curled limbs screamed for space. Gwen sat down first and with a return of her foul character, Mildred sneered at the sight of the bed. She maintained a small distance away from the seat hunched over her restlessly wringing hands. “Gwen !” She hissed like she found joining her on the edge of the bed preposterous, unthinkable. 

Gwen rested her hands at her sides on the thick sheet, accepting that this was as far as Mildred would go in this state. “Mildred.” She answered, even measured and expectant. 

Her nose wrinkled in distaste and she cast her gaze off towards the window. Her arms wrapped around herself, tense and tight like she was enduring a terrible, bothersome wind. 

Oh the stubborn dear.. Gwen clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth, pursing her lips and thinking of what to do next. “Mildred, we need to talk.”

She scowled, looking harder at the silvery strip of grey, beating rain visible through her mostly drawn curtains. “We are.” 

Gwen fought not to roll her eyes. Mildred wasn’t even looking at her but she somehow knew that Mildred would sense her exasperation if she did dare show it. “Alright, then.”

The tormented quiet gave Gwen time to think. Distractingly, she found herself using that time thinking that Mildred was beautiful. She studied her taunt, huddled frame, too tired to find her stare perverted anymore. Her thin limbs crossed bonily over each other in a jumbled effort for comfort, her clothes held more wrinkles than shape. Was she wearing that when she left the house ? The gritty scent of mold tickled her nose followed by the musky human scent of body odor and Gwen was pulled away from her critical appraisal of the younger woman as she struggled to remember her intentions. 

Her features softened in empathy and she began with a hapless shake of her head, “Mildre-”

“I was wrong and depraved, I apologize for my actions, Gwendolyn.”

Her mouth twisted in refrained amusement. Gwen watched as Mildred swallowed her doubt and despair down a bobbing throat. She blinked her large, worried brown eyes in rapid thought, still staring unseeingly at the window. Something wicked worked its way to Gwen’s mouth. “Don’t apologize, dear. If what you did was wrong then I don’t want to be right.”

Mildred snapped her intense gaze over to Gwen. She was thankful to hold herself steady in the face of it. “I beg your pardon ?” 

Gwen treasured the view of this force of a woman. She was like sunshine, maybe. Beautiful but painful to look at directly. She made sure to bat her lashes as she offered the barest of shrugs. “I didn’t say stop. I said wait.”

Given all of her nervous fidgeting, it became all the more unnerving when Mildred continued to stare at her, still and unblinking. She didn’t voice her confusion making Gwen prickle hotly under her gaze. The moment stretched on and Gwen gathered her resolve, preparing herself to provide her own explanation. Experience made it easier but it was both frightening and exhilarating to have all her wisdom and age falter under the particular weight of Mildred Ratched's unwavering eyes. “If we are to have sex, than I prefer it if you were present with me.”

Now, confusion riddled Mildred’s brows together. Pink rose high in her cheeks beneath the thickness of her several day worn powders. Gwen shifted in her seat when she spotted the smallest triangle of a tongue poking its way across Mildred’s lips. Indecision had made Mildred hesitant, so Gwen implored a different angle. “You should know by now that I find you enchanting.” 

Mildred broke her stare and looked down at the carpet again. “I shouldn’t have..” Her voice returned to that previous hoarseness it held before her fluctuating confidence reared. 

Gwen redirected their course again. “I liked it.”

Mildred looked so pink that the older couldn’t resist chuckling. “My dear, you are a nurse. You should know that anyone incapable of talking about sex should probably not be engaging in it.”

She withered in her blush and Gwen drank in the sight. Patiently, she waited for Mildred to give a verbal reply. Mildred seemed to weigh her next words painfully, her eyes searching the air, lost in the past, finding none of her options sufficient. When she finally spoke, it came out weakly. “Do we have to ?”

Her next chuckle was short. “If you would like to have sex with me then, yes. It’s what I require.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands balled in frustration and Gwen took it as a good sign. There were times in which she was almost certain that Mildred was about to bolt. Her flickering gaze. Her restlessly but firmly planted feet. The way her body pulled away. It all killed Gwen softly inside but she knew it was beyond her control. She needed to sit back and let Mildred decide. 

The seconds stretched out as Mildred wrestled an inner battle. A few minutes passed before Mildred next spoke. By then, Gwen had made herself comfortable on the limp beddings. “I’ve never..” She swallowed her words bitterly. When her brow quirked with something more wry, she said instead, “I didn’t realize that small town types were all so picky.”

She didn’t comment on the lapse, smiling instead. “Picky ? I’m too old to be picky.” Mildred met her stare looking half worried about her tease, “I’d say I’m careful now. I don't have the luxury or the heart to be young and foolish anymore. I’ve had too many wonderful, spontaneous nights made worthless by a regretful partner the next morning.”

The scowl returned, but Gwen observed the differences. Her eyebrows jumped haughtily, her mouth, small and twisted sour. Gwen thought Mildred looked like she was annoyed by some riddle. No, it was frustration. The corners of Mildred's eyes pinched with guilt.

Ultimately, Gwen knew it was important to say. Wouldn't want her to go thinking that she was torturing her for no reason. She’d elaborate if she must, sitting there with shallow breaths doggy paddling in her chest. 

Finally finding her response, Mildred licked her lips. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Gwen eased the strain off her back as she leaned back on her palms. “We can’t change the past.”

This didn’t seem to sate the younger. Creases appeared on her forehead even if her eyes remained avoidant. She bit her lip. “So..”

“Yes ?”

She really ought not to tease her so much. Mildred looked so flustered, Gwen wouldn’t be surprised if she excused herself now. Those beautiful doe eyes combed the ground for some form of divine intervention to save her from this conversation. She wetted her lips and Gwen was pleased by the shift. 

“What more must we discuss ?”

It was a serious, business-like question altogether exposing Mildred’s impatience. It brighten Gwen’s face into a grin. “To start, there’s the matter of my confession.”

Mildred reset her stance. Cocking her hips and folding her arms in front of herself. She held her chin up high when she answered. “Go on.”

Playfulness drained from the air in a lazy swirl. Where to begin? “...I’ve visited you in these rooms before.” 

“Yes?” 

Gwen took a deep breath before the plunge. “I’ve visited your rooms while you had company.”

“You certainly were persistent.”

“Mildred..”

There was silence. Mildred had tried to lighten the mood with her coyness but Gwen watched that failing hope die. Standing there awkwardly, Mildred opened her mouth, attempting to bring back their cheeky banter, a witty response rested on the tip of her tongue. Perhaps she hoped that Gwen would let her off the hook, that she’d drop the conversation or somehow apologize for overstepping in the past. But Gwen didn’t. Mildred closed her mouth and looked away. Her hand began to wring again. 

“Yes..” Mildred began cautiously like treading on a sopping lawn careful not to sink into a puddle. “I’ve had company here before..” Gwen gave nothing but a silent tilt of acknowledgement and yet even still seemed to overwhelm the poor woman before her. “And.. and I’ve thought of you.”

“Oh?”

Mildred flashed nervous eyes at her. Her cheeks buzzing with a hard blush.

“Oh!” 

Mildred stared up to the ceiling looking for salvation. “For heaven’s sake-”

Gwen’s mouth had dropped open. The admission coloured her own cheeks something red and Mildred's petulant discomfort somehow made her all the more endearing. “Mildred..” Her voice sounded unbelievably soft in her own ears. The honey tone made Mildred pause and look at her. 

Gwen knew she was a politician at her core, but for the life of her, she also wore her emotions on her face plainly at any given moment. Even if she thought she could pull her own version of a poker face, she was certain that Mildred Ratched would be infinitely capable of sussing out a shred of deception on even the most grizzled stranger. But Gwen didn’t stop the soft look that didn’t quite bend the corners of her lips, she allowed the mellow acceptance to give weight to her gaze. She could swear that as the confused, torn young woman before her looked back into her eyes that the younger had completely stopped breathing. 

A similar rapture laid claim to the dormant volcano of her chest. Molten rock shifted and breathed down her throat and Gwen realized that she stopped breathing as well. 

Taking in a guttural gasp of air made Mildred jump at the suddenness of the motion and kick started her own breathing. Gwen grinned wildly at her and the years fell from her face when Mildred’s own embarrassed smile wandered to her mouth. 

In all the difficult floundering that passed between them, Gwen’s eyes crinkled joyfully, feeling for the first time as though the two of them matched frequencies. 


	5. again, these ladies disobeying my outline

**Chapter 5**

No one tells you how bad nightmares can be. They can haunt you like an abandoned identity. Love and fear that you felt so vividly. Locations etched with certainty and specificity, the textures of underbrush or the shades of concrete. You were just there, you know you were. There’s the feeling of people relying on you, trusting you, needing you, people you might have never met in this lifetime. As if waking had murdered the person you once were. You ended the collection of thoughts and drives of that self with a jolt or slowly, blearily eyed and without drama. Returning to reality can feel like a betrayal. Reminiscing feels like honouring them. Reminding yourself it was only a dream feels cheap. 

Mildred seemed to have her fair share of nightmares. Gwen hears her screaming at night. 

So when Mildred told Gwen one morning, the gritty dawn spent together since Mildred couldn’t sleep and Gwen stayed awake on the arm chair in solidarity, that being together now felt like a dream, Gwen didn’t know what to feel. 

The home shook with guilt for the first two weeks. Mildred hesitant and Gwen accommodating, turning Mildred to step more gingerly and Gwen contorting herself to be more understanding. 

It was insufferable when it wasn’t so exciting. 

There would be periods of balance, they happened in moments like when Mildred learned where all the dishes were kept and when Gwen discovered that the unfinished puzzle in the sunroom was mysteriously filling in. Or, more ruefully when Mildred accepted that Gwen simply does not enjoy a song any less for not knowing its correct lyrics and when Gwen bites her tongue when Mildred leaves her clothing exactly where she discards them. 

Gwen buys flowers just to kill them and Mildred cannot stand to watch sauce being poured. They shuffle the cars in the driveway like clockwork.

It’s not romance like what Gwen secretly hoped for but her world seems larger for having Mildred in it. 

It disappointed her how firmly Mildred claimed Trevor’s old room. Oftentimes, Mildred would stick herself inside it for hours with only the constant pacing heard across the ceiling of the living room below to confirm that she remained in the house. She’d come out only by her own volition, regardless of the hour or whether the scent of cooked dinner permeated the air of the house or not. Gwen took steady practice of smothering her expectations. After all, it was a miracle that Mildred was even here in the first place. 

The thin veneer of their shared domestic yet achingly platonic life would peel back in the night. The mundanity of it might’ve reminded her of all the years living with her former husband but Gwen had _never_ in her life had her sleep so frequently and erratically interrupted as when Mildred had first moved into her home. 

The cool dark of her rooms seemed unfamiliar after a lifetime of her faithfully regimented sleep schedule. The house held a new, tortured presence, still reeling from the faded screams trapped within the walls. Gwen would wake with full alerted consciousness those first nights. She'd stalked to the hall to give aid but Mildred always kept her door closed. She told Mildred that Trevor’s room was hers, that it wasn’t a gift, it was a boundary that Gwen vowed to not cross. So as she stood there, calling out the younger's name in concern, Mildred would never answer. Gwen had spent long, taunt minutes barefoot in front of that door, exchanging her weight from foot to foot, idling in her sweaty worry and conflicted sleepiness. She’d stay there in the answering silence until her legs grew cold and ached under the length of her nightie and she would eventually have to turn around and walk back to her own room. She still needed to get rest, even if that meant falling into a fast, guilty slumber in her icy sheets feeling selfish and deserving of the cold. 

She wished she could ask Mildred what she could do for her, ask if the time she spent waiting in the hallway helped. 

But that would break their unspoken contract. There were no serious questions to be asked of each other in this house lest Gwen wished to be ignored for a number of days. 

What was worse was that there seemed no room left for humour.

Jokes were met with a challenging and assessing eye. Stories conveyed without any clear point were faced with a soulless deadpan that Gwen struggled to endure after the second or third day. The conversations they held between each other were functional at best. How was your day ? Fine. Would you like some tea ? No, thank you. Where do you keep your ironing board ? Spare room closet, can’t miss it. 

Gwen truly did mourn that that previous jaunty element of their awkwardly titled friendship remained unfulfilled. There were days after particularly hard, sleepless nights where Gwen could have shed bleak tears for the vapid atmosphere that clung to the place she once lived in. The place that Trevor and her laboured and saved up to purchase and fill with the things that could make them happy if not frivolously so. Pioneering was hard and although they managed well enough despite their judgmental, piggish neighbours, they did everything in their power to make their home a sanctuary for them both. They found a wonderful market in the city to buy their spices from. They renovated their back porch into the sunroom together. They haggled bylaw to allow for their privacy fence that Trevor grew Virginia Creepers and other thick, salt tolerant ivies on. Sure, learning to live with Mildred was an intrepid affair but at least she and Trevor wanted to be happy - they tried. With Mildred it seemed like life was just some thing to occupy. 

Time was spent. 

Food was consumed. 

Gwen’s home became colourless.

It was looking to be a better week than most, two nights of uninterrupted sleep and Mildred flicked the radio on herself before sneaking away to clean or plot or generally putter around out of Gwen’s sight. Perhaps this is why when Gwen woke to breathless wailing on the third night, it felt like this was the most natural thing in the world. 

The cries crescendoed and gained a wakeful immediacy in it’s gasping pitch as she pulled back her covers and waddled across the room. She heard Mildred chase her breath with keening confusion and mindless whimpers when she paused inside the doorway of her bedroom. Backtracking a few lazy steps in, she collected a pack of cigarettes off the vanity along with the elegant lighter that she received from Trevor one year for Valentine’s Day. She needed him tonight. 

Puffs wheezed in and out on the far side of the room behind Mildred’s door and Gwen set her stance on the balls of her feet. “Mildred ?” She called as she always did. 

The breathing fell disturbingly quiet as it always did. 

Gwen inhaled and exhaled with her eyes closed. “Mildred, I’m going to go to the sunroom for a smoke.” 

She waited a string of seconds for a response as she always did. 

Gwen hated to think it, but she didn’t like this. Numb feet and chilly upper arms. Waking up in the morning constantly on the cusp of a cold, the turbulent nights bankrupting the heat from her body as she waited for replies that didn't come. She’d catch her death before the cancer put her in the ground if this keeps up. She sighed. It was getting harder to stay warm these days. Doctor prescriptions and lonely visits to the hospital laid weak, wobbly planks of wood across the rope bridge leading to the more treacherous things to come. More than once she thought, am I content to die like this ? Abandoned a good, loving man just to house a new roommate to dance around, one even further in denial than the last ? 

She didn’t know much anymore, nothing seemed reliable like it used to. One thing Gwen was determined to see through was how long she could continue to suck on these coffin nails before she’d start hacking up more than just a pink spittle of blood. 

It was an awful regret to dwell on but maybe those monthly trips to Fresno were enough. Perhaps she was foolish to think they weren’t.

Movement shuffled inside the room and it just about scared the shit out of Gwen. 

It pattered in towards the door and Gwen had to actively swipe the sleep and shock off of her face with a bloodless hand before the wood swung inwards and the half moon of Mildred’s small face broke into view. 

“You can smoke in here.” 

The command warbled with the consistency and strength of pudding. Mildred’s one round, brown eye focused its glassy gaze at her around the door. 

Gwen blinked and fought the weariness in her bones that planted her firmly to the floor like tree roots in a swamp. She nodded vigorously before thinking better of it. Best not to scare the poor woman off before she’d even entered the room. 

Trevor would’ve hated this. True, he had a valiant change of heart and soon became overwhelmingly supportive of her inviting a strange woman into their home before his abrupt departure. That said, everything moved so quickly that she barely had the time to scrutinize his motivations since she was busy congratulating his courage to more seriously pursue that short Irishman that he’d been keen on since forever. She even helped him pack for a stay longer than his usual getaway weekends to the studio above the butcher shop. It seemed like she was helping everyone with relocating their things as of late. A bittersweet trend that began when she cleaned out her office at City Hall. 

Their home had truly become a sanctuary, she thought darkly, one for the sick and the strays. 

Immediately, Gwen chastised herself. Sleep deprivation was making her unkind and it became just one more issue to add to the stock. 

That and smoking inside the house.

Trevor would’ve lost his Goddamn mind. 

“This doesn’t feel real.” 

Gwen snapped to attention. Drowsiness kept stealing her away from reality. She found herself perched on the lovely armchair from the set inside of Trevor’s room. The material was thick and held a swirling print of black and lime green. 

“What do you mean ?” She had to remind herself to take a drag from the forgotten cigarette in her hand.

Mildred picked at the sheets, looking for loose threads in the luxurious silk fabric and finding none. She sighed nervously. “I lived in a lot of places before. As a girl..” Gwen watched her swallow before quickly continuing her list, “.. When I went overseas. Finding employment after the War. Each managed to be uniquely worse than the last.”

“Worse than an army base ?”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth she realized her error. Gwen pinched her eyes together. She wasn’t supposed to be teasing. 

Not good.

Shit.

“You've never been to New York, I take it ?”

It took a few seconds before Gwen realized the joke. She snorted incredulously and Mildred gained a slow to rise smile. 

It was fine as gold in Gwen’s eyes.

“Trevor almost served time for dodging his enlistment.”

Mildred’s frame perked, judgmental but curious. “Oh ?” Then her brows furrowed in thought. “But..”

“Yes, he’s 43. Younger than me but not by _that_ much.” Gwen answered smoothly with a wink. The need for sleep made her eyes itch but she blinked through it, determined to take advantage of this rare show of lowered defenses. “An officer came by and everything. Once Trevor made a fool of him.. quizzing the lad on the age range for the draft and walked him through a simple set of math questions - drawing no small crowd of nosey neighbours, mind you - he announced himself as a lawyer at Monterey County Public Defenders and that he would be suing the Lucia Police Department for Intimidation.”

Mildred stared with wide, all absorbing eyes through the smoke. Gwen could preen ! “So what did they do ?”

“They paid for our renovations.” Gwen concluded, smugly sucking at the cigarette. 

It was a half truth. They had already saved for the changes in the sunroom but neither were keen on beginning the project themselves. They had been turned down by several contractors in the area for their interracial relationship. The last handyman made empty threats of bringing some very special equipment for the next time he returned to the house. Nothing came from it but it scared the two of them terribly. It was one of the few periods in their entire marriage where they shared the same sleeping quarters. 

But the hush money combined with Trevor’s grand display of quick wit fueled a new confidence in the pair that they hadn’t felt prior. That was their first big story they shared as a couple. A brilliant one to tell to guests and coworkers and once they arranged a crew further North to complete the job, they decided to host a party in celebration. Together they held court, dynamic and magnetic. Finally and extravagantly assuaging rumours at each respective workplaces, playing their parts of dotting husband and wife. From there, they mapped a new, ambitious trajectory for their careers and home life. They became a team. 

“How did you two do it ?” Mildred's voice dispelled Gwen from her fond reverie. She noted the awe in her voice. “Find each other ? Make it work ?”

“It wasn’t easy. We will never love each other the way a man and a wife should but I'm so proud of us. He’s probably one of the best people I've ever met. He’s.. family.” Gwen replied, gravelly but honest. 

Mildred nursed on that answer and Gwen felt peacefully in the way that comes when you forgo a necessity like sleep or nutrients. A humble type of repentance. Then, Mildred shifted, small and childlike. Her question came in a whisper. “Have you ever.. Have been.. With a woman like that ?”

“I think you’ll need to be more specific, dear.” Asking questions was good. This was good. The adorable minx was asking all the right questions. 

Mildred didn’t clarify. She stuck out her hand. Gwen passed her the cigarette. Smoking in bed ? Trevor would have an utter conniption but Gwen thought that Mildred wore the look well.

Mildred lounged on bed in the only way Gwen could expect Mildred Ratched to lounge anywhere. Balanced, perked and alert, like a novice actor attempting to appear nonchalant. She posed on her side like the way they do in films. The bedsheet draped low over the rise of her hip. She took a deep chested drag before handing the cigarette back and Gwen corralled her wandering gaze. “I'm afraid to ask.”

“It's hard to imagine you afraid of anything.”

Dull look appeared in her eyes. “You've already seen me afraid.”

Gwen unfortunately rose to the hard tone Mildred applied, matching it with her own sardonic edge. “Yes, it's been rather treacherous knowing you, hmm ? There’s nothing to be ashamed of, everyone is afraid when a gun is drawn.”

“Guns don't scare me.” Mildred's reply was cool and devastating. Goosebumps prickled across Gwen’s skin. “I know what they do. I know what I’m supposed to do.” She bit each sentence out like she was enforcing a lesson on the older woman. “Seeing you shot scared me. Thinking you are going to die scares me.”

Gwen found her tongue uncomfortable inside her mouth. She hung on to the tense of the last admission. “Are you afraid right now ?”

“I'm terrified.”

Gwen believed her. 

“Why ?”

Her nostrils flared and her lip curled. An animal cornered. “Why not ? There’s every reason in the world to be scared. How long do we have ? What is it that we have ? I’ve known temporary all my life, Gwendolyn - houses, families, careers.. What happens if this doesn't work for you or when you don't want me anymore ? What if--” Mildred stopped abruptly, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth. 

It was laid bare, like the old, dry bones of a body no one was searching for anymore. It shocked Gwen, really. These admissions, nasty as they were delivered, seemed blanched in truth. Her limbs rested awkwardly as she sat folded up in the chair as Mildred’s body seemed electrified with adrenaline. Gwen was certain she looked like a siren before her, all wild eyes and clawing hands, and knew with equal certainty that she was just as dangerous. 

The fanciful thought had Gwen shifting gears. She moved forward familiarly and gave Mildred the rest of the cigarette.

The gesture was unexpected and Mildred accepted the burning token hesitantly but with a fraction of the hostility she displayed previously.

When Mildred took a drag, Gwen stated, “Love is not safe.” 

Mildred looked kicked in the stomach. “That’s not reassuring in any capacity.” Her usual brand of fault finding always sounding strangely vampish. 

She clicked her tongue. “Hush yourself and let me finish. Love is exciting. Love is addictive. It's trying a new type of fruit. It's buying a new shade of lipstick. It’s jumping in the pool. Now each one of those things can be nerve wracking and love is so much more intense than those and thus, all the more frightening.” She rambled on, her tone softening. Mildred's gaze drooped as she focused on the words. “I can’t promise you safety, Mildred, but I can tell you I will be patient. And I'll do my best to be understanding and when I don't understand then I'll be compassionate. It will take work and.. I'll ask the same out of you. But I am willing to put in the work with you.” 

There was quiet. This was more talking than they’d had all week. 

Mildred eyes remained lowered. “.. You’re afraid of trying new fruit ?”

“You've never looked at the discount rack at Harry’s Gas and Convenience ?” Gwen referenced with a smirk to hide her relief. Her pulse pounded in her throat.

They giggled wet, nasally sounds made dry from the smoke.

“Alright, fine.” Mildred answered. “How were your previous relationships with women ?”

Gwen’s nerves finally caught up in her mouth. “Do you really want to know ?”

Mildred scrunched her face in thought, actually considering the question. She gave a little nod to herself before it matured into full a confident nod directed towards Gwen. “Yes.”

Gwen smiled leaning back in her chair. “Oh ? Are you sure you won’t get jealous ?” Her reply lacked it's usual self assurance. She hoped Mildred couldn't tell the difference.

“Oh, I most definitely will.” Mildred answered point blank. “I still want to know.” 

Gwen's smile doubled in size and she closed her eyes. Her heart thrummed. She made a careless show of drawing a fresh cigarette into her mouth and lighting it with dancing hands.

“Some were brilliant and bright. Some were.. Dreadful. Believe me, you don’t know what it’s like to be intimate with a woman just for her to go cold on you and become unbearably ashamed of you every day afterwards. To have genuine moments of connection wither up and be so easily thrown away the next morning.” Gwen opened weary eyes. She figured she owed Mildred back in candor. “I'm not young anymore, I cannot live that life like I used to, like I thought I had to.” 

Mildred looked dejected through the blue haze of smoke. “That sounds awful.” 

“I don't want to settle with you.” Gwen's voice croaked, breaking in the bewitched dark. “It means work, Mildred, and I'm sorry that I need so much of it.. I need you to work with me.”

Silence. Dawn seemed to push it’s intrusive fingers through the curtains. Mildred squeezed her eyes shut. Gwen knew she pushed too far. 

“I don't know who.. I don't know what I am.” The words crumbled like the fine molts of dust in the air. 

Gwen imposed strength into her reply. “Then we will wait and find out together.”

“But what if I’m not what you want me to be ? What if I'm not what I want to be.. For you ?”

Pale sunlight cast a thin, dim tightrope to bisect the room. 

“Then we will have less regrets because we tried.”

  
  



	6. fvck my outline, amirite ladies ?

**Chapter 6**

Gwen left Mildred’s rooms that morning when the sky was gold. 

She was tired and achy and she had nothing left in her to conceal it. She chose to remain silent as she watched a sound debate play across Mildred’s face. When she finally gained the courage to voice the question, her words spilled out, timid and incomplete. Eventually, she opted to pull down the corner of the warm sheets as if the gesture could replace the actual request to join her in bed. Gwen smiled softly and delicately at her when she said no. Balking, Mildred rose to convince her otherwise, suddenly prepared to list her the reasons as to why Gwen really ought to accept the invitation, and Gwen shot her down once again, gently, playing that she missed the comforts of her own bed and they left it at that. 

It was scandalous leaving the room. Gwen felt like a teenager again, sneaking out of a lover’s house before the world woke up and caught them. Mildred seemed to feel it too. 

They watched each other longingly, her footsteps dragging like they needed to slow the moment down. She collected her things like she was moving through molasses. They’d will the sun to quit climbing the sky if they had to. 

For as long as she could remember, Gwen struggled upset and angry at the world for its injustices. She fought the bounds of repression as much as she could while still participating within the confines of society. Her professional life was good, she was fortunate and worked hard, but she knew these developments were borne from a place of closeted safety and for that she carried a bellowing weight of shame. Often, she’d count the ways she couldn’t enjoy life like others could - the traditional courting, the public displays and declarations, to be celebrated on occasions of anniversaries or to simply and causally relate with her peers. From wishing she could listen to songs on the radio that spoke to the heartbreaks she had to endure in secret to her ever present desire to broadcast her fear about men. The greater danger she’d be in if they knew. 

She had found bitter, mournful solidarity relating to the enduring struggles of others. The single mother outcasted in her hometown growing up, the Japanese man she would talk to and buy fresh eggs from in the outskirts of the city, the kind, older Black woman she worked next to when she began her internship at City Hall but never saw promoted from the basement records room even as Gwen’s career took off. To the countless and innumerable others that she’d never meet, of whom she’d never hear their stories, just as she knew only a very rare few will ever know of her truth. 

It wasn’t the same, Gwendolyn Briggs’ knew that. She wasn’t so ignorant to not see how she benefited from the same privileges that she saw denied to the very people she wished to support and empathize with. But she raged for years in the impotent confusion, unable to fully reject the society that would undoubtedly reject her if she were to be herself. 

She knew the territory that came with acting on her proclivities, how it soured and disillusioned her life so ultimately. Mildred was just at the beginning of hers - of coming to her own difficult truth. She wouldn’t take advantage of her, not now when everything was fresh and raw and hot and exciting. Clearly, others have had a history of using Mildred and she didn’t want to join that league of vile beings. She struggled all her adult life trying to escape the horrible words others might call her : pervert. Gwendolyn Briggs' wasn’t about to prove them right by betraying Mildred’s trust. 

It wasn’t all bad, though, Gwen reconciled. Being _queer_. 

In fact, the current act of exiting just one of the many rooms in the house she owned with her former husband, that Gwen was shocked to feel like a schoolgirl again. Standing on the precipice of fifty and here she was, harbouring a massive crush and coming to her wits end for it. 

Her fingers twitched and her cheeks were hot. They kept stealing glances at each other throughout Gwen’s slow, ridiculously slow movements. 

When Mildred asked her to leave the door open, she had to stop herself from scurrying back to her room to revel in her raging blush. A secret shared between her, the sun, and the ceiling only. So, this is what she missed out on all those decades ago, Gwen thought burying her beaming grin into her pillow. 

She felt young and alive. 

Gwen didn’t recall fading to sleep in the early morning but she woke nonetheless, ill rested and sluggish two hours later. Music belted on the main floor and it battled with the sounds of activity in the kitchen.

Gwen traversed her home like a fawn on new legs. 

Mildred stood at anxious attention besides a small platter of unusually tiny pancakes at the kitchen table. Her hands met together with a clasp that sang before twiddling their regular, wringing pattern. “Are you hungry ?” She looked as ready and professional as she would on any other day but the person under the paint and powders looked like she’d adopted a new and careful resolve since their last meeting. 

“I could eat.” God, she needed a drink of water. And perhaps three days of uninterrupted sleep. Gwen noted the garbage bag was full and tied off next to the side door. “Garbage day is Tuesday.” Then, for a brief moment Gwen wondered if today was Tuesday. 

Mildred blushed. “It’s been a while since the last time I've made batter from scratch. There was nothing worth saving.” 

Gwen eyed the breakfast on the table.

“Something the matter ?”

“Nothing. I'm not worried.”

Mildred’s jaw dropped. “They’re perfectly fine !” 

“These ones, hm ?” Gwen felt drunk on her drowsiness and worked to move one foot in front of the other on her way to the table. On second thought, she moved to put the kettle on when Mildred stopped her to reveal two steaming mugs from behind the mountain of dishes in the sink. Gwen laughed and Mildred seemed pleased. Her eyes brightened and her mouth quivered into a tiny smile.

“You’re right, I’m worried over nothing.” Gwen sat herself heavily at the bench and Mildred took the chair, reversing the arrangement of their last breakfast shared. “Worse case scenario, you are a nurse..” 

Mildred choked on her breath and flashed her eyes warningly at Gwen. Although, upon seeing the mischievous twinkle in Gwen’s eyes she admitted a small, nervous laugh. 

Sweet Dear.. she stole a sip from the coffee Mildred had brought her. 

Mildred watched her intently. 

“Perfect.”

Mildred’s entire face went pink from the compliment and she busied herself with her own mug of criminally weak tea. She snorted. “It’s cream and sugar with a dash of coffee. I’d hardly call that perfect.”

“It gives me reason to wake in the morning.” Her voice was husky and thick from the poor sleep and the dairy.

“It’s barely warm.”

“Mmmhmm..” Gwen moaned indecently with her next slurp and Mildred’s eyes widened as her face flamed. 

Mildred refused to speak. 

Gwen grinned. Yes, she wouldn’t crawl into Mildred’s bed upon her first offer but she’ll continue to push and tease. Their early morning spent together only reminded Gwen of how good it felt to throw her weight around. It thrilled her, Mildred could not only take it, but match her in wit and charm. The grin remained fervent on her face until her first bite of pancake. It crunched.

“Oh no.” Mildred’s eyes were full of panic.

Hands darted to snatch back the brave attempt at brunch and Gwen somehow managed to swing her plate away from the younger’s desperate scramble. “Mhm!- S’lright, they’re good.” She lied, guarding the small platter close to her body. 

“I heard the crunch, Gwendolyn.”

“It’s fine !” Gwen tried to convince the stony faced, nervous woman around the flavourless, charred lump in her mouth. It was an intriguing mix of blackened remains of the previous failed attempts of fluffy cake and just a touch of eggshell. “I need more calcium in my diet anyway.”

Mildred groaned and planted her face in her hands. 

Gwen watched, captivated and endeared. She never would pin Mildred as the dramatic type but they were also functioning on four hours of sleep, and that's if she was being generous, and Gwen was starstruck in seeing Mildred behaving so unlike herself. She wondered how many others have ever gotten to see her like this. 

Pulling herself together, Mildred stood wordlessly and began to clear off the table. Gwen froze, not knowing if this was the last straw. Would she really leave ? Her thoughts muddled worriedly like introducing water to a dry palette of paint, but her body was tired and unwilling to cooperate so she stayed in her seat. Mildred rummaged through the fridge indelicately and exited with a pint of strawberries from the drawer. 

Gwen released a breath of relief as Mildred went about cleaning them and slicing them with speed and precision. She made to deposit them in a fresh bowl on the table when Mildred finally acknowledged Gwen again. She shifted, a calculating look in her eye as she sized Gwen up. Silently, she turned on the spot and fetched the jar of sugar from the counter. 

A giggle burbled up Gwen's throat that she attempted to stamp down and she forfeited her protective hold on the tepid platter of pancakes. Mildred resolutely ignored the pitiful uneaten breakfast and slid a new, vibrant offering of deep red strawberries in the space between the two. She moved the jar close to Gwen, no intention of using any for herself, and Gwen’s cheeks grew warm. 

“Thank you, dear.” 

“Of course..” Mildred paused, her eyes darting to meet hers. “Sugar.”

Gwen barked out a laugh and the tenuous binding that held Mildred’s frame strict and compact loosened. She smiled back, eyes crinkled and tongue caught between her teeth. 

They ate with their hands, Gwen picking the fresh slices up with her fingers to plop straight into her mouth and Mildred reluctantly following suit. The gritty, sticky endeavor of the wet fruit sliding across and staining her fingertips brought back memories of childhood. She was grateful to share this with Mildred despite everything. Watched the woman try to complete her task as cleanly as possible. Gwen hoped to have spread the sugar on her half only but she could tell from Mildred’s poorly hidden winces from when one of them miscalculated. Gwen would mask her smiles at the misfortune with gulps of her coffee. Bless her heart.

Attentively, Mildred refilled both their mugs before they emptied. She was used to Mildred eating quickly and efficiently, barely seated as she would never settle between tasks. They hardly spoke and that was normal during meals but, still, it felt different this time. 

“What are your plans today ?” Gwen ventured. Also a no-no as she quickly discovered at the beginning of Mildred’s stay.

Mildred, however, seemed to anticipate some form of small talk. “The library.” She didn’t elaborate. “I should be home around six.” 

Gwen nodded. That was new. 

“I think I’ll try and lay down for a bit. I had lunch planned with Trevor today but I think I’ll have to raincheck for now.” Gwen said. 

Mildred gave a single, sharp nod and rose to wash up. 

Gwen released the younger woman of her gaze. Progress. A greater and wholly less painful exchange of information, the most successful since her arrival. That was good. Gwen’s thoughts slanted to the unmade bed of her room. She was eager to return to it. 

“He can meet you here.”

Gwen spotted Mildred, now drying her hands with care, more care than Gwen would put into picking a radio station. Something Classical was playing now, as though if given the choice, Mildred wished to be alone with the sounds of instruments and none of the much too human vocal accompaniments. Gwen would have to remember that. “Pardon ?”

Mildred folded the cloth in her hands and stood at full height. “You can have company over, Gwendolyn. This is your house.”

Both of our homes, really, but Gwen wasn’t about to correct her. “Alright.”

There was a bigger conversation to be had but neither dared to broach it. 

Mildred didn’t say anything more and left shortly after. Gwen followed her word as well and soon landed herself reverently upon her sheets. She’ll give Trevor’s secretary a call after a nap.

* * *

  
  


Mildred felt her reserves were absolutely depleted by the time she returned to the house. 

A headache banged against her forehead and eyes the entire drive home. Not home, Mildred reminded herself. Gwendolyn’s home. Gwendolyn Briggs’ home. Mildred didn’t have a home. 

She traveled to Santa Cruz to collect the fake IDs. Mildred was surprised that Gwen didn’t notice her Driver’s License was missing for a few days. But Mildred knew that’s how normal people worked. They didn’t fear and plan like she did, like she had to. They had no reason to be paranoid. 

It was 6:39pm when she parked behind Gwen’s car. A part of her felt self righteous, she wasn’t beholden to anyone, not even Gwen. This mantra played and replayed in her head, time and time again as she pressed a little harder on the gas that she would usually. The roads were dry and clear, nothing reckless, she justified. She didn’t lie, either. They had met in a library. Of course, she hadn’t done anything devastating, Mildred Ratched was a grown woman who made her own choices, the rest be damned. Not that morality ever stopped her before. 

Despite this all, she couldn’t explain the cold sweat that lined her back as she hastily trotted to the front door. 

She briefly, stupidly considered announcing her arrival. ‘Gwendolyn, I’m home !’ She could yell, like this was a commercial or like their arrangement was normal. 

It wasn’t normal. 

Mildred made herself small, wrapping around the door with feline stealth. She locked it snuggly behind her, preparing to be caught sneaking in at any moment. Mentally, she organized her retorts if confronted. There was traffic, lost track of time, I’m late and I’m sorry. 

I don’t report to you, Gwendolyn, you aren’t my superior. If you don’t like it, I’ll go. 

There was no need for any of that as it were - there wasn’t a soul or sound to be heard on the main floor. 

Mildred released a modicum of tension pinching her shoulders. She stooped to unbuckle her shoes, head still throbbing. 

There was red on the floor. 

_Run._

  
  



	7. whoops ! necessary destruction

**Chapter 7**

  
  


Mildred was too horrified to scream. 

Her sight blurred and watered and her heart stampeded through her veins until she shook. No, not here. How ? No. 

No, no, no, no, no.

Her shoes remained buckled. 

Run, she should run. 

She snuck in, no one heard her, she could run. 

Her limbs were numb and weightless, she stood suspended in the main foyer. 

No-

Gwen. 

She couldn’t leave Gwen. 

Cold sweat, her eyes couldn’t focus. Gwen might be gone already. 

Her heart gripped in ice with the thought. 

Was someone still here ? Mildred stared at the stairs, looming and haunted at the end of the hall. There’s a chance she’s still alright. 

She spied more concentrated puddles of red on the stairs. 

There was a trail. 

From the front door. 

Mildred felt every muscle in her body seize. 

Oh God-

She had to avert her eyes. She needed to decide. 

Movement creaked above the living room.

Her pulse ticked.

Someone was in her room. 

Suddenly, anger shot through her like a spear, searing hot and messy. 

She was followed. Someone found her here. She led them to Gwen. Gwen who might still be alive. 

She popped open her purse with rickety movements, withdrawing the Hitman’s gun. The metal bit her palm cool and heavy. She had figured to keep it on her for the pick up and was thankful to have brought it inside. Her eyes trained on the spot of ceiling that she last heard the creak. She settled her belongings sightlessly before the door and walked the path to her room, barely conscious of keeping her feet from treading in the cruel remains. 

She ascended slowly. The pistol felt awkward in her grip and she held it before herself with two hands that she refused to let shake any longer. Her peripheral told her that the trail never deviated from its blotchy path to her room. Nerves solidified to stones that sunk to the bottom of her stomach. 

A courtesy glance into Gwen’s room showed a messy sprawl of bedsheets on the bed but otherwise, nothing significant. That floral scent of hers, signature Gwen, grew stronger than ever and Mildred swallowed, blinking back the rise of any useless emotions for the moment. 

Curiously, Mildred never considered the lack of the scent of blood in the air. 

She entered her room just as Gwen was stepping out of the ensuite. 

“Jesus Christ! Mildred!” 

Both sprang back into the walls. Gwen just about stumbled backwards into the bathroom. Mildred caught her shoulder on the door frame and dropped her aim, breathing for the first time in years. She nearly let go of the gun, pain radiated down through her elbow. Gwen was clutching her chest and coughing, looking deranged and frantic. Mildred was speechless.

“Good God, what-” Gwen peeked out at her, still standing mostly in the bathroom, fearful. More scared than Mildred would like to see on her but understandable given the circumstances. “What were you..” Gwen kept looking at the gun. Eyes round and rolving back and forth to piece together her intentions between the weapon and Mildred’s strange, unreadable look. 

Mildred collected herself between pants. She swung the gun to hang by her side and Gwen tracked its movements acutely. “I..” Her lips were tissue paper and she mouthed the rest of her thoughts without sound. “..The.. the blood…”

Gwen's face pulled in confusion. “What blood ?”

Her body twitched and she cast her gaze to the floor.

Petals.

Rose petals.

_Oh._

Mildred flushed hot and cold. She stood there awkwardly, shallow breath, limbs too long, still holding the pistol. 

“Could you put down the gun, Mildred ?” It began as a whisper but her voice sounded like she was trying desperately not to sound shrill and failed. 

Mildred bent at the waist and placed it on the ground. 

Gwen maintained her distance. 

Mildred never felt regret so feverently in her life. 

The guilt overwhelmed her in a snap. “What are you doing in my room ?” It came out as an accusation. Knee jerk and stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Gwen’s eyes widened and she flapped her arms about like it was an answer. “A kind gesture ?!” 

Mildred retorted before she could catch herself. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“ _I **will** be ridiculous ! _” Gwen shrieked, unhinged, and Mildred shrunk. “And I’d love for you to join me -?”

Mildred sulked, curling at the spine and crossing her arms around her front. 

They stayed silent. Gwen waiting for a response and Mildred not knowing where to begin. 

Mildred stood there, cooling from the terrible excitement and deteriorating in a sea of embarrassment. Her skin flushed and prickled at the back of her neck. In her face. Her neck. She said nothing and waited for the other shoe to drop. For the next blow to strike.

She couldn’t look at Gwen. 

Gwen didn’t so much as snap but crumble. “I drew you a bath.”

Mildred examined the floor boards. “Thank you.” 

“I’m sorry that I was in your room, the doors were open, you were late- I thought I could--” 

“No, this was nice, it is nice Gwen.” Mildred’s reassuring sounded pithy even to her own ears.

“No, God, what a mess..” Her voice faltered like a dam collapsing. Like the weight of a thousand tons creaking the concrete before an imminent, miserable, and watery demise. 

Mildred forced herself to look up. 

Gwen held a hand to her face, it was crumpled in frayed nerves and marred in tears. Her arm wobbled in strained composure and all the fragile walls that held Gwen up and together as an upstanding force to reckon with buckled at the foundations. 

The choice was easy. Easier than choosing to fight or flee in the foyer. Easier than packing her bags and loading her things into Gwen’s car. Easier than sitting across from Gwen at the breakfast table, or in the restaurant, or anywhere else on earth. 

Mildred came to her. 

She wrapped her bramble of arms around Gwen and felt her body give. Gwen came apart like wet sand, held up only by Mildred’s arms and Mildred felt winded by the weight of her trust. Gwen’s familiar loving arms grasped up at her, weak and blind as a newborn kitten, and Mildred felt her neck grow wet with Gwen’s running nose and tears. She shook in bouts and Mildred felt the revelation strike her like pure divinity. 

She’d comforted others before. Crudely, when boys were dying. Men she sought to fell. She watched Gwen pull Betsy together with snappy passion and elbow grease alone. They were mere strangers. This kind of genuine care felt alien to Mildred, she could barely fathom it’s motivation. But now, she realized it wasn’t about her. Not right now, at least. It was about Gwen and her wellbeing. Gwen needed her to be present and kind. And though the thought frightened her, Gwen was holding her so tight right now, oblivious to all her sounds of vulnerability, and Mildred just knew all she wanted was to be held. 

This is what she was talking about this morning. The work. 

At the time, she didn’t grasp what that meant. Gwen could feed and clothe herself. She could get up in the morning and make breakfast and clean the dishes and drive a car and talk to people a hell of a lot better than Mildred ever could. But she needed Mildred, somehow. Needed her to do things that, yes, someone could survive without but Gwen wanted it anyway and with Mildred of all people.

Her hands splayed and stroked Gwen in long lengths along her back. Gwen squeezed and mewled. Mildred held her tighter. 

What was most amazing was that Gwen needed no prompting. She held and weathered the minutes with Mildred when she was at her low. When she hurt or offended her, she apologized and made space. And now, intentionally or not, Mildred had scared her. Her insides crippled at the notion but Mildred only squeezed and squeezed and rocked her body like she was a child and Gwen moaned sorrowfully and Mildred intuited that she was doing something right. 

This led Mildred to wonder if this was something every child was taught and that she simply missed that lesson. She often felt like this, seeing others talking, flirting, and moving through the world. Her peers made it seem so frictionless even if Mildred felt like she tripped over the very minutiae of everyday life. Like others had known the arcane language of the world, held it secret, and seemed to pull some great elaborate inside joke she simply wasn’t privy to. 

But Mildred knew this to be untrue. 

Maybe some of it was learned but Mildred knew that Gwen was special in this way. A way she took for granted. 

Gwen breathed in heavily, a laboured wet breath close to Mildred’s ear and Mildred resisted pulling away from the grating sound and closeness. She clutched her instead and felt Gwen melt a small bit. 

“I.. I just wanted to draw you a bath.. I thought..” The words cut like shattered glass and Mildred choked up her hold on her. “Yes.” Mildred spoke. “Thank you, that’s quite.. Generous of you, Gwen.”

She puffed out the thickest breath. “I’m sorry, Mildred, I know I said I would be pa..atient..” She hiccoughed and fresh tears started up anew. A hollow, ragged gasp scraped out of her chest. 

“And you are !” Mildred cooed and rubbed. “You’ve done so much, I just don’t know how to say thank you.” 

Gwen sank in, tight and small, in her embrace. She huffed. “Oh, Mildred, I’m not looking for a thanks.. Or maybe I am.” Her self consciousness was palpable and Mildred pulled back a fraction to watch her, ready to dismiss such claims. “I don’t know, I just.. want something. It’s hard to read you sometimes.. Sometimes I just don’t know…”

Mildred’s heart broke. 

She withdrew just enough to cup Gwen’s downcast, exhausted face into her hands. Her horrible, villainous hands, that took so much away, now holding the most precious thing in the world. Mildred pushed through the self sabotaging thought. “Gwen..”

She was a weepy, miserable sight. Blotchy and pink faced. Eyes red rimmed. Mildred noted the dark bags of her under eyes that only grew in power since the big move. Mildred bit her lip, she knew the source of her immense stress. It was her. 

“You are.. Extraordinary, Gwendolyn.” 

Gwendolyn gasped in a breath and closed her eyes to Mildred. Mildred held her gently between two uncertain and trying palms. “Gwendolyn you are the most considerate person I’ve ever met.” Tears slipped past her closed lids and Mildred fought not to panic at the sight. She had to try and be strong enough for them both. “You’re pushy, too.” 

Gwen’s eyes sprung open in surprise. Mildred met her with a nervous smile. “There’s my girl.”

Compliments were hard but this was familiar. Gwen furrowed her brows and gave a hapless laugh. She sniffed and gained a little composure. 

“You are.. Dynamic.” Mildred tried again and Gwen managed a sticky smile. “Gwen, I feel unwell around you.. I feel like I lose myself and I ..like it ? I hate it sometimes and I realize.. I dislike knowing the person I am and you make me confront that. I want to change and be more than what I am, presently.” Mildred breathed out the words in a rush, they rose and dipped in speed and loudness like an orchestra playing chaos with her diaphragm. Gwen watched her, blinking and absorbing each word with detail. 

“You are incredible. I’m astounded to be in your presence. I want it to last forever and..” Mildred finally found she couldn’t finish. Too much, she’d said too much, did it make any sense at all ? 

Gwen’s hand touched her face and Mildred was brought haltingly out of her head and into Gwen’s great, intelligent eyes. “Thank you.” Blue. Blue that gave her air and threw her into the wild. 

Mildred breathed in sharply, suddenly aware of their proximity. The thrill and fear of knowing that as easily as Mildred came to her, Gwendolyn could just as easily reach her back. That Gwen saw her and Mildred felt naked. Suddenly, the world became jarring in it's clarity. The clammy cool of Gwen’s hand. The soft pressing of their fronts. The shape of Gwen’s parted lips and the sheen of saliva, thick from the cry that dressed her mouth. 

Time caught and rolled in the riptide of their breaths. Sticky and heavy and congested and close. 

Slowly, Mildred drew in. She never so consciously leaned into the woman. Her eyes kept darting between her destination that she wished so sweetly to reach and watching the full hesitance in Gwen’s eyes. She knew the hesitation was for her sake and Mildred tried to show her understanding in the steady slow, so very slow speed that she brought their lips to meet. 

Soft.

Soft, a near cool wetness. Gwen fluttering her eyes closed. Mildred allowed her own lids to do the same. 

There were no lights in here, sunlight was dying as she returned. Her curtains served and guarded her room obediently in her absence. 

Candles. 

She knew they must be decorated deeper in the bathroom behind them but she couldn’t tell for certain. She could only smell them. 

Wax and the scent of roses.

Mildred was not pressing the kiss to be anything more than it was. Not to escalate, not to de-person, not to lose herself. 

But instead Mildred just allowed herself to be present in the moment. Feel the pressure, the temperature, the texture. To note the slides, the subtle changes. Fingers pressed to the side of her jaw. Her hands crawled to the feather fine hair organized in a bun at the nape of Gwen’s neck. Mildred felt the stream of breath leave Gwen’s nose. She inhaled deeply in hopes of catching some of Gwen’s essence. To consume her gently, and hopefully gain some sort of spiritual insight on how to love this woman right. Let them write new religions in Gwen’s name, for the balance of her step, the instruction and boast in her voice, the beauty that twinkled and brought meaning to this otherwise insignificant planet. 

Mildred wanted it all, if only to give it to Gwen. 

Mildred began, as she didn’t even realize she already had begun, to change. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall, is anyone interested in making a discord server for this community ? as a separate note, my chapter titles have become a cry for help and im looking for a beta as well. please lemme know below if ya can assist 🤘🏼


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